Rogue of the North
by Dc1-Reflective
Summary: The story of a thieving rogue who battles inner demons, and tries to find out what he truly is, Good or Evil. Join him as he travels across Cyrodiil and battles great foes. Side Note: My first story, should you find any errors, grammatical or spelling inform me of them. Enjoy.


**Chapter 1: A Bleak Beginning**

**2nd of Last Seed, Year of Akatosh 433**

The air is thick and wet, as is necessary. Remaining inconspicuous is vital as long as my organization wishes to remain. Unfortunately, I am uncertain of my future in my profession. My order, The Thieves Guild, has ordered me to transfer to Cyrodiil's sect in the Imperial City. I was most disappointed at first, the sect in Skyrim is one of the most influential and that is where my connections are. Despite this, I followed suit and now currently I fumble to retrieve a small lockpick from my belt.

I intend to enter a barn along the red ring road. When I enter the barn, I am greeted by the loudest cow I've ever known. Noise, however, is not a friend of mine. I simply arranged that cow a date with death and off it went into the great beyond. I fashion a bed of hay and lay my head on the hard earth. When I awake, I am licked by the tip of a sword, causing a ribbon of blood to flow from my arm. I attempt to rise but am thrown to the ground by a man in an iron like armor who shouts "Stop right there, criminal scum!"

Bah! In my drowsiness I neglected to awake at the proper time, now, here I stand in irons, awaiting my fate. Before I'm even thrown in the prisons I am required to have my name entered into the books, blast! I'm doubtful now that the Guild here will even accept me. The very first thing they order is my name "Wulf Valentia" I said. I wasn't about to tell them my real name, Falx Carvain. "Huh, I'm surprised not used to seeing Imperials in here" the jailor remarked. "There's a Dunmer down there too, ha I'm sure you'll get along just fine" his chuckle makes me uneasy, I am unsure of what my fellow prisoners are like, but I'm sure to find out.

17th of Last Seed, Year of Akatosh 433

It has been two weeks since my incarceration, and my fellow jail birds are anything but pleasant. Thus far, I've counted two in total, one an insane Imperial who never stops ranting about the Dark Brotherhood and how his imprisonment is an injustice. The other was the Dunmer, Valen Dreth. At first glance, I assumed him a little damaged, with a little sense of good in him. I had a quick change of heart after the first sentence of his introduction however, I can recall it right now:

_"Oh, look, an Imperial in the Imperial Prison. I guess they don't play favorites, huh? Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of human trash. How sad. I bet the guards give you "special" treatment before the end. Oh, that's right. You're going to die in here, Imperial! You're going to die! Imperial criminal scum like you give the Empire a bad name, you see. You're an embarrassment. Best if you just... disappeared."_

After this exchange with Dreth the taunts were thrown at his leisure, I don't think his threat of death is true however. After all, the guard made it very clear I'd only be here until the 3rd of Frostfall, two months in total. Although, I've begun to have my doubts. I haven't eaten a proper meal in a week, I've had to make do with the occasional mouse and a pitcher that I fill with water that drips in through my cell window. My cell, a dank and dirty stone room, in it a table that has certainly seen better days. In front of the ramshackle table stands a rickety old chair that looks as if it would break should I sit on it. On top of the table lay a few items. The pitcher previously mentioned, and a clay cup that looked as if it had been constructed in the very cell itself. Hanging from the ceiling were two chains with latches for the irons around my wrist, I assumed these were for beatings. The place I was meant to sleep was a concave in the brick wall that contained a rotting blanket and pillow, above it were 7 tally marks carved in to the stone, likely from the previous occupant of my cell. I wondered what this represented, seven days, seven weeks, seven years, seven decades, it filled me with a worry beyond that of any other. The "bed" almost looked like a fire place giving me a cold feeling that perhaps I will die.

After staring at the dust filled beam of light shining through my cell window, high up on the wall, I rose from my bed. I quickly drank the last drops of water in my cup only to find that Dreth had also awaken in his cell across from mine._ "Beginning to worry for your life Imperial?"_ he began, _"It's already began, first they starve you then the beatings start. You see those chains? They hang you from those and then come at you with a club!"_ After this exchange a large number of loud footsteps echoed through the hall. At this Dreth began _"Hey, you hear that? The guards are coming...For You!"_ before sniggering like a little girl. Suddenly a voice rings out,

"Baurus, lock that door behind us" this is the voice of a woman, strong and commanding.

"My sons.. they're dead aren't they?" This one is a males voice, gentle but still with the essence of strength.

"We don't know that, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked" this was the woman's voice, slightly shaking.

"No, they're dead, I know it." it was the man voice again, somber and grieving.

Again the woman spoke "My job is to get you to safety."

"These are not ideal conditions Renault, why the prisons?" this was the same man, I began to wonder why two people had so many footsteps.

"There is a passage, known only to the Blades. No one shall follow us through here." the woman responded.

At these words I understood why so many footsteps were made. There were four bodies not two. One was an Imperial who I assumed was the man from before, dressed in regal attire normally worn by nobles and kings. He had an element of wisdom about him, he was older, at the sight of his face I immediately got the feeling that he was a leader of some sort. The other three appeared to be bodyguards, but none I'd ever seen before. Their armor was black with gold embroidery. The weapons they carried were curved, long, and black, like the armor. One of the bodyguards was a redguard, male, although stern, his face also had a hint of friendliness. The other male guard was an Imperial, strong, big, and mean looking. The third was the woman I had heard before. She is a Breton, but strong, authoritative, she had obviously seen her fair share of battle, but despite this, she still appeared fit.

At the sight of me, the female guard, Renault, blurted out "What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off limits."

The Imperial guard stammered "Usual mix up at the watch...I-".

Renault quickly disregarded this and said "Never mind, get that gate open." she then looked at me "Stand back prisoner. We won't hesitate to kill you."

The Imperial guard spoke towards me "Over by that window, you won't get hurt."

I quickly stepped back into the corner, knocking over my pitcher, shattering it. The gate to my cell was opened and all three guards stepped in.

"Good, lets go." Renault barked, the man who was dressed in finery followed her instructions and entered the room.

As he walked nearer to me, I began to recognize his face. It was a kind, gentle face, the kind of face that inspires unity. It was obvious who the man was, the Emperor of all of Cyrodiil, all of Tamriel. Oddly enough, it appeared as if he recognized me. My suspicion was confirmed when he approached me and said "You, I've seen you before. Let me see your face." I stepped in to the light. "You're the one from my dreams...Then the stars were right, and this is the day." He stops for a moment and looks up "Gods give me strength."

I stopped, frozen, "Your dreams? I can not be in them, you must be thinking of someone else, I-". The emperor stopped me before I could continue.

He began to speak "I have dreams, nightmares to be truthful. They are of the wastes of Oblivion. Daedra killing mercilessly. Of you. Saving the people of the Empire from the Princes of darkness."

"Emperor, sir, I don't think I am who you think I am." I stammered. "I'm a bad person, I murdered a cow after breaking into a barn. I am certainly no hero."

"It matters not what you have done. More likely than not, the gods have placed you here so that we may meet." the Emperor me. I thought about this for a moment, he could be right. After all, I had never been caught before, I have to be, as a professional thief I knew never to kill anything. I have absolutely no idea why I killed the cow, it was unprofessional. There does certainly seem to be some kind of otherworldly being behind this. The emperor must be right, I'm sure of it.

"Please sir, we must keep moving" said Renault. She then pushed a brick in next to my bedroll and the platform in the concave lowered.

Before he could leave, I asked the emperor one question "What am I to do?" "You shall find your own path. Take care..there will be blood and death before the end." how he knew this, I do not know.

The emperor and Renault left, the Imperial guard not far behind. "Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way." said the Redguard fellow, his voice was strong, but friendly, as if he would share an ale with you in a pub. Shortly after, he also went through the passage that had opened up in my concave.

I too would follow, but not before looking at Dreth and directing towards him a rather rude hand gesture. I grabbed a shard of the broken pitcher and continued on down the passage, my objective the same as it had been for the past two weeks, **Survive**.


End file.
